


A Walk Through the Market

by AmanaMistleaf



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Almyra (Fire Emblem), F/M, Fluff, Homesickness, Racism, Shopping, protect these small beans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23673892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmanaMistleaf/pseuds/AmanaMistleaf
Summary: Cyril shares a bit of his past with Lysithea.
Relationships: Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	A Walk Through the Market

**Author's Note:**

> I love these beans and they need to be protected at all costs.

"Two bags of feathers, three whetstones, one sheet of sandpaper, and...two sticks?"

"No, that would be twenty sticks." A slender finger pointed to the character next to the 2. "When this O-shaped character shows up next to a number, it indicates a larger number: It's called a zero."

Cyril nodded, eyes burning into the page. "Gotcha! Thanks, Lys!"

The platinum-haired mage smiled at the Almyran boy, keeping a brisk pace as they walked side-by-side. "Of course! I'm always happy to help you!" She glanced at the shopping list once more, a groan escaping her lips. "Professor Byleth must be doing a seminar on fletching arrows, based on this list."

Earlier, Byleth had asked Cyril to go into town and pick up some materials for her. She normally would've done the chore herself, but she was preoccupied with helping nurse Claude back to health after a training incident (Annette really needed to look behind her before she decides to swing a lance). He was getting better at reading, but Cyril preferred to have Lysithea's help with this long of a list, especially because there were a few words he didn't recognize. Lucky for him, she was eager to help. 

The two had just arrived in the town and were making their way to the marketplace. Cyril was too busy staring at the list to see the townsfolk eyeing him warily. A man even silently asked Lysithea if she was in trouble -- that warranted him a glare. 

_What was an Almyran doing in town? And with a student, for the goddess's sake!_

"I don't see why you're so upset, Lysithea! I love fletching!" The boy stated, finally looking up from the paper. 

The girl rolled her eyes. "I'm a magic user, not an archer," she said. "I might sit this one out."

Cyril nudged her, amber eyes alight with playfulness. "At least give it a try - it's a lot more fun than you think!"

"I'll take my chances." Finally, the pair of friends arrived at the marketplace. The streets were bustling with people, both townsfolk and students alike. As it was the middle of summer, the streets were quite full. Vendors were trying to peddle their wares to passerbys, merchants were showing off their wares, the doors to the indoor shops were swinging open and closed constantly, more people flowing into the streets.

The Almyran smiled at the scene before him, a content breath leaving his chest. Although this was Fodlan - the furthest possible place (culture-wise) from Almyra - he couldn't help but paint his homeland right over this scene. He could almost feel the warmth, the sand licking at his ankles, the shouts of vendors, and the striking scents of saffron and cardamom. 

But it wasn't Almyra; it will never be Almyra again. That part of him had died alongside his parents and he didn't want to accept it back -- not now. Instead of the blazing heat, he felt the mild warmth that was Fodlan summer. The only thing beneath his feet were hard cobblestones. And instead of spices, the smell of sweets permeated the air (Lysithea did not complain about that).

"Something on your mind, Cyril?" Lysithea broke his trance, waving a hand in front of his face.

He shook his head, flashing her an uneasy smile. "Just thinkin' about Almyra, that's all."

She nodded. "I see..." she mused for a few seconds. "What about Almyra?"

Cyril didn't really like talking about the place, as it brought back bad memories. Still, he would make an exception for the ever-curious Lysithea. "The markets here might be lively, but they'll never hold a candle to Almyran marketplaces - well, they're more like bazaars."

She nodded, walking up to the fletcher's stall -- he should have the majority of what the needed. "What are they like?"

Cyril handed the list to the man tending the stall, ignoring the glare shot his way. If not for Lysithea's presence, he would have been shooed away. "Busy. And lively - _very_ lively. Even at night, the bazaar never sleeps! New vendors and peddlers come and go at all points of the day, so you never see the same thing in the same place twice! Well, unless the vendor licensed that area." They stood to the side as the man prepared their materials. "Most towns have a pretty sizable marketplace, more so than average Fodlan towns."

Lysithea nodded along, trying to keep him distracted as hushed slurs were thrown his way. "In the capital, there's this place called _Albazar Alkabir -_ the Grand Bazaar - that's apparently the size of my hometown times ten! It's the largest bazaar in all of Almyra. Heck, probably even the world!"

"Have you ever seen it?" His friend asked, taking the bag of feathers that was handed to her.

He shook his head. "Nah. I was from a small town close to the Throat, so I didn't travel all that much," he explained. "My Baba and Maman went once, long before I was born, and they said they've never seen anything like it!"

"It sounds wonderful," Lysithea hummed, handing the rest of the materials to him and swiftly paying. She mentally went through the list and looked at the items in their arms. "Looks like we have everything! Did Professor Byleth say anything about the excess money?" They had about ten gold left.

Cyril chewed on his cheek for a moment, eyes gazing upwards. "She said the rest can be used for whatever we wanted."

The mage beamed at that. "Great! Let's get some ice cream, then!" She used her free arm to wrap around his, dragging him further into the marketplace and away from the judging eyes.

The boy smiled at her, complying to her wishes. _I appreciate all she does for me..._ He thought to himself. _Even though I can't escape the discrimination, she at least makes it more bearable._

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, Cyril. Claude is about to have a stern talking to with the CEO of Racism.


End file.
